


Like Fireworks

by fragiledrug



Category: Star Trek (2009), Star Trek: The Original Series
Genre: Anal Sex, Explicit Language, M/M, Oral Sex, Psychic Bond
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-01-14
Updated: 2012-01-14
Packaged: 2017-10-29 12:07:08
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,323
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/319725
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fragiledrug/pseuds/fragiledrug
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>One of Kirk’s favorite things is waking up before the Vulcan in bed next to him does, warm and lethargic but turned on from the quickly fading remnants of some carnal dream.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Like Fireworks

One of Kirk’s favorite things is waking up before the Vulcan in bed next to him does, warm and lethargic but turned on from the quickly fading remnants of some carnal dream. Shifting quietly, he’ll watch Spock for several minutes, taking in the steady rise and fall of his chest, the brush of dark eyelashes against his cheeks, the tempting curve of his sleep-slackened mouth. This morning is no different. He lies still for a while, simply basking in his bondmate’s presence, before he can no longer resist the urge to touch, to mark, to make him come alive under his fingertips and fall apart with his name the only thing he remembers clearly.

It never takes long for Spock to rouse; Jim has barely ghosted three fingers over the line of his collarbone and his eyelids flutter. He trails up the underside of his throat and Spock arches, tilting his head back. Kirk attacks the bared flesh with lips and teeth and tongue, drawing Spock from that comfortable floating place between asleep and awake to complete alertness. A hiss escapes him, a startled but pleased breath that ricochets down Kirk’s spine and settles hot and demanding in his groin. One of Spock’s hands settles in Kirk’s short hair, blunt nails grazing his scalp just so. It’s perfect. Lips meet, press and open, an invitation neither man can deny and Kirk licks his way into Spock’s mouth, tasting him.

The next thing Kirk knows, he’s on his back with Spock hovering over him on hands and knees. He grins at the Vulcan above him. “Morning,” he practically purrs. Spock doesn’t reply. At least, not vocally. His mouth descends and they kiss again until Spock breaks contact to move down Kirk’s body. Small thrills of anticipation make his skin shift, the muscles of his abdomen flexing convulsively against Spock’s tongue. It’s almost too much, his skin still sensitive from sleeping. When Spock latches onto a sharp hipbone, he cries out, body surging up of its own accord. “Fuck, Spock. Stop teasing.”

Spock’s dark gaze slides up the length of his prone form and Kirk can’t quite restrain a shiver. “If I am not mistaken, you are the one who teased first. Payback is only fair, don’t you agree… _Jim_?” His name is little more than a growl. Kirk swallows, mouth and throat suddenly dry. His First Officer is only ever so uninhibited and downright feral in their sacred, private moments together. It is, at times, frightening – but also exhilarating, not to mention an honor and privilege he still doesn’t fully understand what he’s done to deserve. Maybe he doesn’t deserve it, but there it is anyway, trust, longing and love laid bare in the other man’s eyes.

“All’s fair in love and war,” Kirk manages to retort easily, a mischievous glint in his own eyes. Once again Spock doesn’t respond verbally. Instead, he turns his head and licks a wet stripe up the side of Kirk’s cock. Kirk lets his head fall back, eyes closing as the entirety of his length is engulfed in the slick heat of his bondmate’s mouth, which is searing, far hotter than any human mouth. He sucks him down, bobbing enthusiastically. He’s consumed by flame, the fire igniting under his skin, in his very blood. “Oh, fuck, _t’hy’la_ , please.” Kirk is nearly incoherent with need. He’s never been so wholly unraveled by someone before Spock. “Need you in me. Now.”

Spock makes a broken, feral noise at that. Pulling off Kirk’s cock with a lingering lick at the tip, he reaches up with two fingers held out. Without hesitation Kirk raises his head and sucks them into his mouth, laving them his tongue, getting them thoroughly coated in his saliva. Spock can’t suppress a full-body shudder at the feeling. The pads of his fingers are far more sensitive than a human’s because of his touch telepathy, a fact Kirk takes advantage of whenever he can. After a moment Spock withdraws his hand, pointedly brushing down Kirk’s side, over a hip, along a thigh, until he feels deft fingers slip between his ass cheeks. At the first whisper of pressure against his puckered hole, he whines. He’s pretty sure Spock smirks, one corner of his mouth twitching up, but then the fingers are pressing in instead of against, slowly penetrating, stretching him open, and the burn is absolute bliss. It’s not enough, though, and he tries to say as much but the only sound he can manage is a sharp gasp because those clever fingers have found his prostate and his entire body is on fire, every last nerve lit up like fireworks in the dark of night.

Kirk’s hips move of their own accord. His cock is pulsing with urgency where it strains upward, curving toward his stomach, still slick with Spock’s saliva and starting to drip precome. Spock can’t resist leaning in to drag his tongue across the slit, lapping up the bitter, viscous liquid in a barbed display of tasting him. He licks his lips and a bit of come sticks to them, making them look deliciously obscene. Kirk growls, hand snapping out, fingers sinking into silky ink locks and tugging the Vulcan until he can claim his mouth, tasting himself and something spicier and unidentifiable, alien, something that’s purely Spock. Fingers slip out of him just as Spock ends the kiss and Kirk could scream with the soul-deep emptiness of the loss but then Spock is repositioning him, moving his legs around his waist where Kirk locks them into place without being told and lifting his hips, his ass up. He slides home in a single thrust. Pain-laced-pleasure makes Kirk buck, the entire world narrowed down to the point where he and Spock are joined, though just then he’s not certain where he ends and Spock begins, or why they’re ever apart at all.

It’s like being worshipped when Spock begins to move, hips pulling back and snapping in, long, slow thrusts at first and then shorter, faster thrusts, and all the while his hands roam, skimming the outside of Kirk’s thighs, his hips, his stomach, mapping out every battle scar even though he has them committed to memory, has had them committed to memory for some time. Sparks of emotion pass between them, unfettered by any of Spock’s mental shields: desire, need, lust, longing, love, devotion. Above him he can hear Spock pant out something in Vulcan but the only word he catches clearly is _ashal-veh_. One of his hands moves to Kirk’s cock, fingers sweeping up and down the length before gripping tightly, so tightly, and beginning to pump him in rhythm with his thrusts, each of which hits his prostate dead on and makes him give abortive noises of ecstasy. Heat is coalescing deep inside him, building with every minute shift, every tiny wrecked sound Spock exhales and all it takes to send him tumbling headlong into a spine-arching orgasm is one particularly brutal thrust and a dexterous flick of wrist on the upstroke. He feels jets of his own come streak his lower stomach and seconds later another form of heat fills him as Spock abruptly goes rigid with a ragged cry of his name.

Spock coming is one of the most beautiful things Kirk has ever seen – and that’s saying a lot, because as the Captain of a starship he’s been to some incredible places and seen some absolutely stunning things. His eyes, usually so clear and keen, cloud over; his hair, usually perfectly groomed, is a mess from Kirk’s hands dragging through it; his body, usually hidden under the Starfleet regulation uniforms, is flushed a lovely tint of green that makes Kirk want to touch him all over. All in all he looks wrecked, especially then as he lowers himself on lightly shaking arms to brush their mouths together before he pulls out of Kirk and collapses next to him.

**Author's Note:**

> ashal-veh = darling  
> t'hy'la = friend-lover-lifelong companion


End file.
